


Eye of the Beholder

by Writeous



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen, Original Character Death(s), Original Character-centric, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 17:26:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writeous/pseuds/Writeous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Percy and Annabeth weren't the only two affected when campers left for Kronos</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eye of the Beholder

Best friends since very first sight.

Bubbly and bright meeting sullen and smooth.

Because, as they say, opposites attract.

Open and happy and laughter and secrets.

Makes them the perfect match, forever together.

 

Hopefully, maybe,

He dreams of something more.

But he never dares,

He values her too much.

 

She is so happy.

She's found her true love.

Found it,

Again,

And again, and again, and again.

But whenever the next love of her short life leaves,

She's grateful for him, the one whose shoulder on which she leans.

 

Why won't she understand?

Was she always so dumb?

To not see what was staring her right in the face?

But he stays, just for her, in case she changes her mind.

Until she feels what he felt all along.

 

She understands the bow and arrows.

The notch, the flick, the target.

Bam! She got it again.

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

In wonderful monotone,

Like music to her joyful ears.

 

He's clumsy, off to a slow start.

Nothing fits, nothing's right.

His cheers are half hollow, but cheers nonetheless.

She succeeds, so he'll succeed too.

She'll finally notice then.

 

Practice, practice, practice.

Practice makes perfect.

What a stupid saying.

But true, so, so true.

They said he couldn't make it.

His blade begs to differ.

Not that anyone cares.

 

Under the dead of night,

Everything is wicked.

But not him, not yet.

Because he has her, with her smile and wit.

But he's just barely resisting the voices.

 

They're drifting.

Getting farther away.

Make them notice!

Turn around, retrace your steps!

But no one ever does.

 

In a small, rare moment.

They're walking side by side.

Casual, not letting it stray.

But the truth slips out,

In its sneaky, sneaky way.

 

She hesitates,

Hesitates, hesitates.

She'll always hesitate.

And then he disappears.

Into the darkness, she can't see.

He's always been good at hide and seek.

 

Nothing's real, nothing's bright.

How could she see anything in light?

Her life is a rollercoaster.

But her screams of delight have left her.

 

He's accepted with open arms.

Better than it ever was back home.

Home? Home? He has no home.

Here he's liked, not tolerated.

He's found his true family now.

But it feels empty, a shadowed sun.

He always was used to dim light.

 

The day comes, to defend their home.

What they've been training for forever.

But what's to fight for, really?

When the one you were fighting for has gone?

 

The day comes, to take what's rightfully theirs.

They've abandoned him, but he's on the right side now.

But what's to fight for, really?

When the one you were fighting for has made her choice?

 

Arrow after arrow after arrow after arrow.

Burying themselves into chests, through hearts and muscle.

Always on target.

Her quiver's almost empty, but who cares?

The despicable monotone, why won't it end?

She's on the sidelines, way in the back.

But she'll enter in a heartbeat just to see him again.

 

Clashing, clatters, moans and screams.

Is this what battle's really like?

But his sword doesn't care, so neither does he.

He's on autopilot, not thinking of the carnage, of the destruction he's causing.

He's right in the middle, he'll probably die.

But he just wants to see her one more time.

 

She's not really looking where she's aiming.

Honestly, she couldn't care less.

She looks for his hair, for his eyes, for his smile.

But he's lost in an endless sea.

There's her last arrow, her one painful reminder.

She pulls it back and lets it go free.

 

His blade loves the fighting.

He knows, it shines all the way through.

Blood surrounds him, who knows, maybe it's his?

Honestly, he couldn't care less.

He's looking for her hair, for her eyes, for her smile.

But she's lost in an endless sea.

He takes out an enemy, a boy, about his age.

One of his love's many lovers.

Another painful reminder, before he finally sees.

 

She's looking, she's searching, she needs just a glimpse.

The last arrow leaves her, her eyes straw to its fall.

And her numb mind realizes, as it enters his skin,

That she just killed the boy she loved most of all.

 

There she is, at the edge of the crowd!

Her quiver's slung on her back, her bow open and proud.

But her eyes, they're so weary!

Her face has worry lines.

Her hair's tangled and dirty.

Her sun has left, her happiness gone.

And just for a moment, their eyes seem to meet.

Before he realizes that she is his final defeat.

 

And then she's running.

Her life depends on it.

To right where he fell, smack-dab in the middle.

Her innocence is gone, but she needs to say sorry.

But in her heart, she knows he won't hear.

 

He's right there, on the ground, clutching the arrow in his chest.

Her legs are on fire, but then she is there.

She has to defend him, like he used to do.

To tell him those three fateful words.

I love you.

 

She kneels there beside him, her ear to his mouth.

Tears streaming, blood flowing, she just needs to know.

He whispers goodbye, and then she does too.

And their lips are touching, finally, finally, yes.

He hopes he'll remember it into his death.

 

He's gone with all his torment and grief.

She can't believe it.

It's all her fault.

She gladly accepted the knife through the heart.

 

So in death, surrounded by bodies and rubble.

They were found, holding hands, forever together.


End file.
